


Drama Queens

by RainCS



Category: The Two Princes (Podcast)
Genre: Brief Rumir - Freeform, M/M, Other, Queens arguing over wedding plans, overprotective moms, these queens being badass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 18:08:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19817716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainCS/pseuds/RainCS
Summary: Queen Lavinia may be the self-appointed wedding planner, but Queen Atossa also has a thing or two to say about the wedding, one Eastern tradition in particular that causes one of many heated confrontations between the two queens.





	Drama Queens

It was much too early in the morning for this, Lavinia thought. 

Only Atossa would summon another queen to a pre-breakfast meeting. What an absurd concept. How could one be expected to get anything productive done before breakfast? Was the point of breakfast not to give one energy to deal with anything the day might bring? Lavinia briefly entertained the idea that perhaps this was Atossa’s intention, to catch Lavinia too early for her to be at the top of her game, but she dismissed that. This was simply Atossa being Atossa; frustratingly efficient and productive above all else, and wanting this conversation out of the way before they joined their sons for breakfast.

Still, Lavinia thought, she could have at least had the decency to be on time.

Just as she thought it, the door opened. The Queen of the East strode into the room looking more put together than anyone had any right to. The sun wasn't even over the horizon. She carried a book – a very large, thick book, the kind that reminded Lavinia why she preferred to dance in ballrooms than read in libraries. She was well read, it wasn’t that, but her reading was done because knowledge was how you got ahead in this world, and Lavinia refused to fall behind because of laziness. But she could not fathom reading for sport, like her son. The way Atossa held the tome of a book protectively in her arms, the Queen of the East understood perfectly well why someone would read for sport. 

Good, Lavinia thought. Maybe she could be the one to listen to Rupert go on about his stories.

“I apologize for the delay,” Atossa said. She placed the book on the small table beside Lavinia. The poor table shook under the weight. “They changed the construction details again and my planned route was cut off by workers.”

A common enough problem in a castle not even halfway built, so Lavinia forgave the other queen.

“Why are we here, dear?” she asked. “What was so urgent it couldn’t wait until later?”

“Wedding plans, darling.” Atossa took the seat opposite her Western counterpart. “Wedding plans. There is much for us to discuss, and I do not want to delay any longer than necessary.”

“My dear, I organize dozens of parties every month, what makes you think it will be a struggle for me to plan a wedding?”

“The idea that you will be doing all the planning,” Atossa replied with her usual dry tone. “I feel obligated to remind you that this wedding will signify the union between the East and the West, the only thing more important will be their coronation. This wedding needs to be more than another of your festivities. It is a celebration of two cultures becoming one, and the ceremony needs to reflect that.”

“It sounds like you have some ideas.” Lavinia eyes the book between them. “It doesn’t require me reading that, does it?”

“Only the sub-chapter I highlighted.” Atossa opened the book with some effort and revealed a page entitled The Sanctity of the Royal Wedding.

“That looks like it’s going to have a lot of rules in it,” Lavinia commented. “I find a party tends to go stale if too many rules are involved.”

“This is not a party, it is a royal wedding,” Atossa said firmly. “And there are certain aspects I expect to be included. One in particular I wish to discuss now.”

“Fine,” Lavinia conceded. “Lay it on me. In the West, a royal wedding is pretty much the same as any other wedding, just… more expensive and with dull speeches by dignitaries.”

“The most important thing about an Eastern wedding,” Atossa announced grandly, flipping the book again to the correct sub-heading, “which I expect you to incorporate as the self-assigned wedding planner, is the Declaration.”

“Isn’t that what a wedding is?” Lavinia asked, confused. “A declaration?”

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Queen Atossa corrected herself and pointed to the page. “It is a special part of the wedding ceremony where the bridal party express their love for one another with self-composed music. It is called the Ritual Declaration of Love Through Song.”

“Through what now?” Lavinia was sure she must have misheard, though it was written right there beneath Atossa’s finger, black on faded white, and underneath it she could spot detailed instructions regarding the composition of music and the writing of lyrics.

“Song, darling.” Atossa looked quite thrown by Lavinia’s confusion. “I know for a fact that you have songs in the West.”

“We do, my dear,” Lavinia confirmed. “We also have fully nude cabarets, but those will not be performed at my son’s wedding.”

“I do not see any similarity between the two examples, and neither do you.” Atossa crossed her arms, eyeing Lavinia with suspicion. “What is your true hesitation in allowing this ritual?”

Lavinia hesitated, chewing on the inside of her lip before remembering she was a queen and put a stop to that ridiculous behavior. Her pause dragged for a moment, and Atossa waited patiently. 

“I have made sure to keep singing away from my Rupert since he was a child,” the Western Queen finally confessed. “All our parties contain music, but singing does not occur in his presence.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. Why ever not?”

“There was a rather traumatizing experience on Rupert’s twelfth birthday. Rupert has not sung since, at least not in anyone’s presence. His face turns the most humiliating shade of red whenever the very idea of public singing is mentioned in passing.”

“Oh, no,” Atossa said. “What did you do?”

“What do you mean, what did I do?” Lavinia responded indignantly. 

“What did you encourage your son to do which backfired enough to make him terrified of singing of all things?”

“I – “ Lavinia cut off whatever defense she was about to pull out of her head. Atossa knew her too well for anything but the truth. “I turned his birthday into a talent competition as a surprise and pushed him out on stage with instructions to sing as the orchestra played his favorite song. I knew the boy was a decent singer and I wanted him to show his people that he had talent!”

“This is already off to a terrible start. What happened?”

“Well…” Lavinia wanted to shrink under Atossa’s piercing eyes and the massive book’s imagined glare, but instead she raised her head to maintain her dignity. “That was the moment his body decided to announce the arrival of puberty. His voice cracked something terrible and made such a ridiculous sound that the guests could not help but laugh. Rupert ran to his room and did not come out for days until I agreed that no one in the entire kingdom would ever speak of the incident again. It was decreed and everything.”

“Well.” Atossa was quiet for a moment. “It seems you are going to have a very awkward conversation with your son when you convince him to partake in the singing ritual.”

“What?!” Now Lavinia was fully back to her shameless self. “Did you not hear what I just said? My son will not be singing at anyone’s wedding, and I will not mention such an idea to him!”

“Lavinia, this is an ancient tradition of his fiancés homeland. Amir has always dreamt of writing and singing his wedding song to the love of his life, ever since he was a little boy. Of course this is going to happen!”

“Which part of traumatizing childhood event did you not understand?” Lavinia rose to her feet now, and Atossa followed her lead.

“How is it you still have not learned that nothing good comes from being overly protective? You shielded your son from the truth of the prophesy and look how that worked out!”

“I’d say it worked out rather splendidly!” 

“Thanks to our sons,” Atossa stepped out from behind the table and one step closer to the other queen. 

“Not thanks to your secrecy!”

“Even if that’s true, this is entirely different!” Lavinia copied Atossa’s movement, the gap between the shouting queens shortening as their fists clenched. “Rupert wouldn’t want to do this even if he did know about the ritual! It would break his heart to tell Amir he wouldn’t do it, and the guilt would force him to accept only to flee in terror on the day of the wedding!”

“And it will break Amir’s heart to learn you won’t even give Rupert the chance! Perhaps he will surprise you! This is the only part of Eastern wedding tradition Amir has ever cared about!”

“I will not force my son to humiliate himself!” Lavinia shouted.

“And I will not crush my son’s dreams because of your lack of faith!” Atossa yelled right back.

Lavinia’s mouth was already open and ready for a retort, but a shout from the open window cut her off.

“Amir!”

Both queens recognized the sound of Rupert’s voice. They exchanged brief, furious looks and moved to the window to see what was happening down in the courtyard.  
The morning was still mostly dark, the sun barely peeking over the horizon, and both queens were surprised to see Prince Amir walking through the empty courtyard, Rupert running after him. Once Rupert caught up, he jumped onto Amir’s back, arms wrapped around his neck. 

Amir made a shrieking sound in faux surprise and spun as if trying to shake Rupert off. Soon the put-on shouts turned to laughter. Rupert slipped off Amir’s back and allowed the taller prince to turn around, Rupert’s touch never leaving him until they were face to face, both wrapped in each other’s arms.

In the quiet of the morning, their voices carried up to the open window, and the queens could just make out their voices.

“You are insane,” Amir said, voice still full of lingering laughter.

“You love it,” Rupert said and kissed his fiancé deeply, hands clinging to Amir’s shoulders before the two of them slipped apart and walked, hand in hand, towards the castle.

Lavinia had long suspected the two princes snuck out of the castle for some alone time. They must have fallen asleep out there last night.

“You know,” Queen Atossa said, voice suddenly quiet and filled with emotion, “I have never seen my son look so comfortable and at ease with himself.”

“And I,” Queen Lavinia replied, “have never seen Rupert so confident and happy.”

The two queens backed away from the window and looked at each other, their anger shedding like too heavy cloaks on an early spring day.

“I have never seen two people fit the way they do,” Atossa said.

“I never knew what love truly looked like until I saw the two of them together,” Lavinia seconded. She took a deep breath. “Their love has already conquered so much. I will discuss the singing with Rupert. I will allow him the choice.”

“And I will speak to Amir, and explain why it might be difficult for Rupert to embrace this tradition. They will come to a decision together.”

“As they do in all things.”

Swept up in the emotional moment, the queens embraced, knowing that as long as their sons loved each other nothing else mattered. Both mothers would cry at their son’s wedding no matter what, and it would only be tears of joy.

“Now let’s go have breakfast with our sons,” Lavinia said, “and explain to them exactly how stupid it is for future kings to spend the night outside without soldiers to protect them.”

Queen Atossa agreed. “It will be my pleasure.”


End file.
